


The Loving Art of War

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: RWBY
Genre: (based on a tumblr post + ask), (sort of), Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Shenanigans, Slice of Life, Tumblr Prompt, everyone is competitive as hell, ozpin and qrow aren't interested in being mean or heterosexual, the kids totally ship their dads together, they're Polite Gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 09:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14952158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: Qrow will pry the title of Best Neighbor out of Ozpin's cold, dead, endlessly kind hands.(AKA: they flirt and they're weird about it)





	The Loving Art of War

**Author's Note:**

> A lovely anon prompted "A modern AU where Ozpin is Oscar's guardian and Qrow is Ozpin's neighbor. Oscar and Ruby eventually decide to attempt to get Qrow and Ozpin together. (Because it's obvious these two dorks are in love)" and a friend said, "You should do [that post](http://charminglyantiquated.tumblr.com/post/161171681872/itcomesbetweenus-yotoob-imagine-otp) where the gay neighbors are Too Nice and it's a Problem." And I said "YES." 
> 
> So here we are.

War began the morning Qrow opened his front door and found a plate of freshly baked lemon squares next to his morning paper. There was an umbrella propped over the sweets to protect them from the rain and a note—some sort of fancy card stock that Qrow could never afford—just visible under the saran wrap:

 

_Welcome to the neighborhood! I hope you enjoy this treat._

_Regards,_

_O._

 

"Ruby!" Qrow snatched up the plate and the umbrella, kicking the door closed as he went. By the time he'd made it to the kitchen half a lemon bar was gone and there was sticky dusting of powdered sugar down the front of his chin. Actual breakfast? Unpacking? Screw that. All Qrow could see was a tall glass of milk in his future. "Hey, Ruby! Get down here already. Oprah left us a welcoming gift—and she can bake!"

 

Two more lemon bars later Qrow could deal with his pint-sized charge pointing out that his favorite celebrity _probably_ hadn't been the one to leave sweets on their doorstep (kill-joy), as well as the fact that he'd have to pay back whatever neighbor had done the good deed. Which was fine. Qrow had learned the art of box cake mixes for a reason. And he'd return the umbrella. Dry, of course. What Qrow couldn't deal with was sauntering back out and finding that everyone else on the block had their papers positioned at the end of their drive. They were pretty drenched by the rain now. His paper, however, had been placed neatly beside the mat. 

 

Everyone gave food when you moved in. That was tired. Cliché. Boring. The umbrella? A decent touch. But _this_?

 

"Hm," Qrow said, finally sipping at some coffee, washing down all that sugar and now, disgust.

 

“…Alrighty then. Bring it.”

 

***

 

"Who are you?"

 

"Who are _you_?"

 

"I asked you first, so."

 

Ruby grabbed hold of the fence and bounced on the balls of her feet. That was fair. "Fine. I’m Ruby Rose. We live here now." She wrenched her head back towards the house. Qrow could just be seen peeking out from the newly installed curtains. "My uncle wants to know who made the lemon bars we got this morning. It's weirdly important to him so I'm out on a super secret mission to find out which neighbor it was. Was it you?"

 

"Me?" The boy pointed to himself, looked to his own house, back at Ruby. "I'm Oscar."

 

"Right! Hi Oscar."

 

"Hi." He paused. "Is it really a super secret mission if you're just telling everyone about it?" 

 

"Not with that attitude it's not."

 

"Uh..."

 

"So did you bake the ultra delicious lemon bars? I've got like," Ruby cranked her neck again. "At _least_ ten more houses to try. Uncle Qrow says that anyone not on the block doesn't count as a neighbor and if they're giving welcoming gifts that's just strange instead of considerate. So yeah. Ten. But I really just want to get home and eat some more."  

 

For the first time Oscar's eyes lit up. He scrambled across the yard and stood carefully on an overturned flowerpot so he could see over the fence. Ruby had grabbed a stool from the kitchen. They were nearly nose-to-nose.

 

"Did you really think they were delicious?" he asked.

 

"Ultra delicious. But don’t tell Uncle Qrow I said that."

 

"All right!" Oscar swung backwards, causing the fence to sway alarmingly. "I didn't make them, my dad did, but he let me beat everything together this time. It wasn't lumpy or anything, I made sure. But you liked them, right?" 

 

Ruby nodded seriously to match his expression.

 

"I found you," she whispered, poking Oscar in the chest. He went a bright tomato red at the touch. "That was mission one: Find the Baker. Mission two was figuring out if it was homemade. Oh! But I guess it was, huh?"

 

"Mm hmm. Was there a mission three?"

 

And at that Ruby grinned. It wasn't silly and it wasn't kind. Eight years old and everything she did was adorable. A walking, talking Facebook post just waiting to happen. Ruby Rose was in every way the embodiment of a sugar sweet girl... except when she smiled like that.

 

"Oh yeah," she said. "Mission three was to give you our declaration."

 

Oscar blinked. "Declaration?"

 

"Of _war_."

 

She hopped down from the stool, snagging it by a leg and rushed away without bothering to look back. A few seconds later Ruby slammed back out and chucked the umbrella at an unsuspecting Oscar's head, nearly causing him to topple. The now empty plate was handed over more carefully—Ruby on tip-toe, Oscar impaling himself on the fence tips—and she made him hang there a second longer so she could pat him twice on the head. Like she wasn't a year and a half younger than he he was. "Be sure to tell your dad!" she chirped.

 

Oscar stared. From the window Qrow gave a little wave.

 

***

 

Five minutes later Oscar found his dad cleaning dishes in an _~I'm Magical~_ apron and elbow length green gloves. He handed the plate over with a solemn expression.

 

"I met the neighbors," he said.

 

"Oh?"

 

"They've declared war on us."

 

"That's nice. Be sure to let that umbrella dry before putting it back in the stand."

 

Oscar was up in his room and immersed in a book by the time Ozpin stilled in his relentless scrubbing, one hand pausing with the sponge held comically in the air.

 

"Wait. I'm sorry they _what_?"

 

***

 

War. Ruby hadn't experienced it since she was a toddler (and those memories were admittedly fuzzy. Four and five-year-olds weren't known for their detailed recall). She remembered the spirit though. Back when she, Uncle Qrow, and Yang had first moved into their old house. How their neighbors had _dared_ to think that they were more accommodating than they were.

 

Honestly. What kind of nonsense.

 

"It'll be a hard road, kid." Ruby nodded forcefully as she scarfed down a PB&J. And milk. She needed milk to grow strong. "Yang's off at college. You won't have her to help you out this time. You think you're ready for this?"

 

Ruby swallowed hard until the peanut butter finally slid down her throat. "YEAH!"

 

The edge of Qrow's mouth twitch, but otherwise his expression remained strict. With grandiose sincerity he slid the cake her way—amazing what someone could accomplish with a box recipe, pudding mix, and a cup of extra chocolate chips—and handed Ruby the rake after she'd gotten her shoes on. She took both with an elaborate bow.

 

"Go forth, soldier, and give them hell."

 

Oh, Ruby would.

 

Like any good spy Ruby had watched her enemies' movements over the last few days. She knew that Mr. Pine would be off at work and Oscar still had a few hours of school left (it would be another few weeks before Ruby was officially enrolled and she was _loving_ it). Even so, she was careful as she snuck over into enemy territory. Silent as a mouse and just as quick. Ruby looked left, right, and with the coast clear began her work.

 

(From across the street, unnoticed, a man named Bart and his husband, Peter, peered at the child in red.

 

"What a strange girl that is.”

 

“Indeed! I like her."

 

“Well I never said I didn’t _like_ her—")

 

It wasn't easy. But then, Uncle Qrow never claimed that it would be. Ruby sweated hard that day, pushing her tiny body to its very limit. She even bled a little when the rake rubbed a small bit of her skin away and some blisters formed. But by late afternoon though she'd made her stand and Ruby snuck back over to their property with a wicked smile on her face. Tired, dirty…but victorious.

 

Ozpin arrived home with Oscar forty-five minutes later. He stared at his perfectly raked yard, the lovely leaf pile, the cake on his doorstep, and the note that read,

 

_game on, handsome! come and get a piece of me!!_

_Love,_

_Q._

 

There was a crudely drawn, anthropomorphized cake doodled at the bottom. It had tiny fists raised for a fight.

 

Oscar peered up at his dad whose eyes were narrowed at the note. "Can I eat it?" he asked.

 

"Not before dinner."

 

"Kay."

 

"And you can't enjoy it."

 

Oscar coughed. "Uh... yeah. I promise to hate it, Dad."

 

" _Despise_ it."

 

"...alright."

 

"Good." Hidden by the fading light Ozpin's thumb drifted across the word 'love.' He scoffed, but carefully folded the note and slipped it into his pocket. "Go wash your hands. I'll be back in just a moment."

 

Ozpin pulled his coat closed and headed back down the drive, immediately turning right. He didn't stop at the new Branwen-Rose household though. Ignoring the soft light from within, the very faint sounds of a happy conversation, he walked past three more doors until he hit the one with the black and purple welcome mat.

 

Glynda Goodwitch had dealt with a lot of shit in her life. Finding a twitching friend on her doorstep, she'd found, was always the start of trouble.

 

"Please inform you social circle, Glynda." Ozpin said. Only his oldest friend could have picked up the steel in his voice. "My hand has been forced. It seems that I must now host a dinner party."

 

***

 

So a dinner party it was.

 

Ozpin and Qrow officially met the next Saturday across a bowl of Peter's 'famous' (arguable) potato salad. They sized one another up like two alphas fighting over their territory. At least, that's how they pictured the scene. Everyone else just saw two dorks who were, despite being geniuses in many aspects of their lives, complete and total idiots.

 

"Not exactly a dinner party," Qrow said, the first punch thrown. He took in the various neighbors mingling around the Pine kitchen, chatting and ribbing one another like the old family they were. He shrugged. "Just saying. Dinner party implies, I don't know. Fancy glasses and shit. Something sit-down. Should I be in a suit?"

 

Ozpin leaned back against the fridge. "You'd look good in a suit. However," he continued before Qrow could respond to _that_. "I fear I didn't have much time to prepare, now did I? It's hardly my fault I had to throw this all together last minute. Besides, we're a simple bunch around here. I see no reason why I can't hold a casual gathering now and something more elegant later. I'm a man of many talents and nothing if not accommodating." There was a clear challenge in his eyes as he took a sip from his drink. "Were you known for your dinner parties, Qrow?"

 

"Oh no," he flapped a hand. "But I did throw the best cookouts around. People used to rave about them for weeks afterward. Not that I'm one to brag."

 

"No, no. Of course not."

 

“Pretty sure our old neighborhood will never be the same. A friend’s words, not mine. We just… had a knack for making people happy. What can I say? Some claimed we were the _perfect_ neighbors.”

 

Critical hit. The chit-chat that surrounded them seemed to fade. Qrow locked eyes with Ozpin and Ozpin locked eyes with Qrow.

 

"Are you at least enjoying yourself?" Ozpin murmured.

 

"I guess."

 

"You _guess_?"

 

Qrow swiped a potato with his finger and watched Ozpin twitch. "I've been to worse."

 

"...I see. Ah, but I’m being remiss as a host. Perhaps you'd like a drink with that? I believe Glynda brought some excellent wine."

 

(Read: Ozpin _made_ her bring excellent wine.)

 

"Nah. I quit drinking years back."

 

And for the first time, Ozpin smiled. "I'll have to remember that then. For the next time you're in need of a gift."

 

"Gift?" Qrow moved to rest his forearms on the counter, inching close. "Don't tell me you just give out random presents?"

 

"But of course. Fresh fruit in the summer. A trinket that reminded me of a friend. Surely all neighbors do this? All _good_ neighbors anyhow."

 

"You utter bastard."

 

Perfect parry. For some strange reason known only to the two of them, this made Ozpin's smile widen. "Should you ever wish to return the favor, you should know I'm far more fond of vanilla cake than chocolate."

 

Qrow scoffed and it turned into a laugh. "Of course you are. You still liked the clean yard though right? I mean, my god, Ozpin. Letting it get to _that_ state..." He full on chortled at the look that produced.  

 

"I would have gotten to it eventually. I'm a busy man, you know."

 

"Uh huh. Guess I'll be shoveling your snow as well. Don't think this is over." Qrow snatched up a cup and poured himself a soda. "Ruby and I have fought these battles before, Oz. We’re not amateurs and we'll wear you down. Eventually."

 

"Mm." Ozpin twirled his wine glass, considering. "It's bad to underestimate your enemy, Qrow. Although... is a ceasefire truly impossible?"

 

"You know it is."

 

"A pity." Ozpin lifted his glass in a toast, the red color still swirling. "I will not give up my position here and I suspect you won’t back down. Thus, I have no doubt we'll be playing this game for a long, _long_ time."

 

Qrow lifted his glass as well and if the two of them were close enough to brush fingers? That was entirely their business.

 

"I'm looking forward to it."

 

***

 

Across the kitchen two kids munched chips and stared at their soon-to-be dads.

 

"Yang and I are gonna crush you and be the best siblings _ever_."

 

"Please. Bring it on."

 

And they lived happily (in combat) ever after.


End file.
